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# Backup to CEREBRO_RESTORE script.

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function Backup - LeBeau. RE

$lebeau01 = /hippocampus/prior0090days

$lebeau01Backup = \CerebroRestore\ .cradle002

& $runBackup .exe

BellaDonna trailed a hand over his shoulders as she passed behind his chair. Remy turned from his laptop to look up at her with a small smile, the barest curve at the corner of his mouth. Belle reached out and closed the laptop as Remy leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Never thought I'd say this, Rem," Belle said and walked to the nearby window. "But I think you're workin' too hard."

"On account of me not bein' able to work smart," he responded, speaking to her back.

Belle let out a breath and shook her head, admonishing him. She was not a fan of his self-deprecation. She pushed up the window, letting in some of the sultry night air. There was the faintest breeze now that the rain had stopped, bringing in the honeyed scent of bougainvillea from the garden outside. He watched her as, out of habit, her eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for danger. She lowered the wooden slatted blinds, partially shielding the room from view. The white sheers fell closed and billowed softly in the breeze.

"I've consulted every lead, all my sources. There is nothing about these attempts on your life," Belle told him. "There are no contracts on your head."

"'Preciate you lookin' out for me, ma belle. Maybe all them that gambled against me want to cut their losses," Remy said, still facing his desk and the laptop. "And they're all cashin' in their chips at once." He did not know how his attackers managed to track him. Like so many other things in Remy's life, he never fully knew what was going to happen next himself, let alone have someone else anticipate his moves.

Belle approached him from behind, put her hands on his shoulders. He leaned slightly into her touch. "Could be. Now that you're king of the hill. Takin' responsibility, callin' the shots." Belle leaned forward to speak her seductive voice into his ear, her breath tickled his cheek. "Like the leader you were always meant to be."

Remy reached up to put a hand over Belle's. "I couldn't do any of this without you. Or Jean-Luc. Without your help."

"Remy, you've been away too long. I don't like this modesty nonsense," Belle told him. She pushed the back of the chair, causing it to turn so Remy faced her. "Them X-Men wrung the starch outta you."

"Ate my fair share of humble pie," he told her, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the room. Belle had known him so long, too well. He could see by her expression, that Belle recognized something in his eyes and the set of his mouth. She saw the sadness there. Remy took her hand again, kissed the back of it, not wanting to meet her violet gaze for long.

"Not another bite of pie," Belle smiled. "Unless it's baked with four and twenty blackbirds."

Remy pulled her into his lap and said against her throat: "I know another dainty dish this king would rather eat." He followed the statement with a nip of his teeth against her neck. Belle laughed and hunched her shoulders, pulled away slightly.

"That's more like it," she said, looking into his face. She leaned forward to kiss him. His lips met hers, so familiar, comforting. Like coming home. Lips parted, he tasted her mouth and tongue. His fingertips traced her delicate jawline. He breathed deeply of her scent, fresh and sharp, a tinge of something metallic. Spring rain on hot streets. This was too dangerous.

Reluctantly, he withdrew. Her fingers brushed the hair along his jaw, then reached up to trace one of his brows. Her eyes took in every plane of his face. He wondered what she was looking for.

Apparently, she found it, because she spoke. "Remy…," she began and then hesitated. Not like her to flinch, to falter. She wet her bee-stung lips and carried on. "Really, you're just sickeningly gorgeous, the most handsome man I've ever met. A good heart, kindness under whatever armor you've put on. A clever brain, regardless of what anyone else has led you to believe."

"Is this you re-inflatin' my ego, chère?" he asked, smiling. She was never one to hide her feelings. Spoke her mind. Very direct, Belle was, like a stiletto to the heart. It was a refreshing change of pace. He could've learned a thing or two from her.

"Have you given any more thought, about what I asked? About havin' a baby of our own?"

Remy's gaze slipped from hers. His smile dimmed. "No."

"You'd best not lie t'me, Remy LeBeau," she bunched handfuls of his shirt in her fists and gave him a gentle shake. "I know when you're lying."

"I'd put it outta my head, Belle. I got other things to concentrate on." Remy urged her to stand then, turned back to his desk, making it a barrier.

She put a hand on top of his computer before he could reopen it. "Distract yourself with, more like."

Remy shook his head, feigning impatience. "I like the relationship we have now. Rather not complicate things."

"We talked about having a family when we was small," Belle persisted. "How we'd do things different than our parents. Do it right."

"If it's a baby you want, Belle, I'm sure you can find a donor or some such," Remy told her.

"I'm lookin' for someone I can trust, someone I know. I know you, cher. You make a good daddy. Not to mention, you'd make beautiful babies."

Remy's mind rebelled, drew away from the treacherous squeeze in his chest. The temptation to seize his heart's desire. He'd fallen into this trap before. When his mind told him one thing and he disregarded those thoughts because they ran contrary to what his heart wanted. When Remy was presented with obscure reasoning, questionable decisions, evidence to the contrary, he chose to accept rather than question.

One reason given and he'd accepted: Remy's level of "experience" when it came to love. That she had been inexperienced; and his arranged teenage marriage to his best friend had somehow trumped her worldly knowledge. Despite her absorbing the wealth of know-how from thousands of men and women over the years. Forgetting he'd never truly loved another until she came along. As if his world didn't break apart every time she went away.

Questionable decisions he'd ignored: the fact that after he professed his love and willingness to wait, she had fallen into bed with a man several generations his senior. Remy tried not to wonder, who was more "experienced," himself, or the Master of Magnetism?

Evidence to the contrary he'd pushed aside: Him again, showing up at their engagement party, invited no less. Him providing comfort, easing her suffering. That, instead of coming to her husband with her pain and concerns, she had told Remy she needed fresh air. Chosen instead to heed Magneto's advice, and protect the villain from the ire of her friends and family. And that while the other men in her life were given a pass for egregious behavior, Remy himself was held to higher standards; he'd told himself it was because she knew he could do better. But perhaps the real reason was that she had never actually wanted Remy to succeed, hoped he'd fall short of her expectations.

Lastly, Remy had accepted that they would never have a family. Tried to take her sudden change of heart in stride, because at least he had her, they had each other. It was made more difficult to accept, when what he saw of her was little enough to begin with. And all the time spent waiting, waiting for their life together to start. He realized what he was accepting was a lie, that he would somehow be enough for her. When had that ever been true? Until the realization, that maybe she wasn't enough for him.

He'd stacked all these concerns one on top of the other, like blocks on a Jenga tower. Empty spaces in his heart until the whole thing had collapsed. Remy was tired of rebuilding it. Better to just put the game away for good.

"I won't do it again. I don't want another relationship."

"Not askin' for a marriage. Don't have to be wed. Just got to have a partnership," Belle said reasonably. "How is that any different than now? With the Guilds?"

"Belle, you think we'd be able to separate our feelin's so easy?" he asked, feeling himself, exhausted. "You got to know there's a fundamental difference in our way of life that'll make co-parenting an impossibility."

Belle looked away and said with false lightness: "We could raise 'em Catholic, if you like."

"Not talkin' about that, and you know it. And I already lost a cat to a ruined marriage. That was hard enough. Can't imagine what a disagreement over a kid would take outta me."

"I wouldn't do you like that," Belle said softly.

"No tellin' what we'd do to each other," Remy told her. "When it comes to broken hearts and promises. I know you too, Belle. You'd do anything to protect your family. And if it came to a dispute between me an' you, you'd protect them from me."

Belle continued to regard him in silence, her expression sad. He hated disappointing her, again, but disappointment now was better than heartbreak later. What he didn't tell her was that he had nothing left to give anyone else, he'd invested it all in another. When he searched his heart, it was like trying to flex a muscle that seemed to have little strength. The feelings of love and romance had atrophied. He knew now why Jean-Luc's girlfriends lasted maybe a month. Why, when Remy was a boy, as a father he was at times absent, cold at his worst. Why get attached, love someone when you'll outlive them, or grow close to a kid who wasn't likely to see his twentieth birthday? Jean-Luc might not have set the best example, but it made logical sense to prevent yourself needless pain.

"You'll have my support, Belle. I'll do whatever I can to help you. But this ain't a path I can go down with you."

"I know you're thinkin' it's better to be alone than t'have your heart broke again. But you got more to offer yet. You always shared what you had with me, even when you had little enough to give. You're still that brave boy who thought he could rescue me from the big bad men."

"I was wrong though, wasn't I? You didn't need rescued."

"Need my life saved, no. Want my life shared, yes."

Remy told her: "I already promised another. I can't afford to give away any more of myself. ...I got to get ready for my trip to Cuba. I'll see you when I get back."

Belle let out a resigned breath. He did not look at her when she passed her hand through his hair, kissed the side of his face. She walked from the office and closed the door in silence.

Love was no longer in the cards for him. He wouldn't play that game again, the stakes were too high. When it came to matters of the heart, he tended to lose the whole pot.

Next time: Regrets, she's had a few. But then again, too few to mention. Rogue did it her way.

Author's note: I write fanfiction to keep my brain active. I read fanfiction for enjoyment, just like you. When I don't care for something an author has written, it is very easy for me to click on a different hyperlink and find something else.
What isn't easy for me: working on something for four months only to read discouraging opinions a reader formulated in one minute because they don't like a particular pairing. It is very easy to tear someone down. Ask yourself: If being positive was so difficult, why does being negative come so easily?

There are lots of ROMY stories in the sea, les poissons. Just keep swimming.